


love will hurt you but love will never mean to.

by blessed_image



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Always, Declarations Of Love, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, No Angst, Richie Tozier Is Smart, Stanley Uris Needs a Hug, but not for the reason u think this time, fuck stephen king lives, fuck u im right, group hug, i just want them happy, its relevant, nothing new there, streddie is happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 18:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20680034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessed_image/pseuds/blessed_image
Summary: Stanley Uris is in love.





	love will hurt you but love will never mean to.

“You know...” Richie starts in a bored tone, having somehow already finished all of his homework. Stan assumes it’s all wrong at first, before remembering that he should stop doubting Richie so much. He balances his pencil on his nose, tilting his head- Eddie snorts. “I could just help you with it.”

Huffing, Stan glances up from the papers laid out in front of him. The pencil falls from Richie’s face, so as he’s frowning down at it- he doesn’t notice the quick look the two other occupants of the room share. Eddie has a glint in his eyes, the light of the room reflecting off of them and their dark shade. Stan tries pushing the grin away, failing miserably. It drops when Richie looks back up.

“I’m not stupid, you know.” he says. “I mean, Eddie’s mom gives me private tutoring-“ Eddie flicks his pen at him.

“Shut up.” he glares daggers, playful. Stan watches the interaction with interest, taking keen notice as to how Richie’s smile seems a lot more real than usual; more free, more open. Eddie’s face is a lot less tense, too, flushed a pretty pink colour that Stan refuses to think about for longer than a second or two. 

He thinks about it for much longer than that, though, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

These thoughts nag at his brain for a while, rendering him distant from the scene before him. He doesn’t believe it is his place to pry, yet the two boys stare at him silently after a minute of bickering. 

“Stan? You in there?” Eddie wonders aloud, clicking his fingers in front of his face to regain his attention. Stan blinks. 

“Uh, yeah.” Shaking his head, he looks back down to his homework; numbers, letters as well as the odd equation watch him as they blend together. He can’t focus like this, not when he’s being watched so closely; gazes burning into him from so many directions he can hardly keep up with it all. 

Richie hums, low, deep in his throat. Eddie clears his throat. 

Tapping his pen against his lip absentmindedly, Stan isn’t too bothered by these things- until he notices, too late, that Richie’s own index finger is drawing dangerously close to his face. He slides his view over to him just as it hits him. 

“C’mon, Stanny! Lighten the fuck up!” Stan rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the poking on his cheek. His legs, raised in the air, cross as he lies on his stomach- as he starts swinging them around. Eddie chuckles, placing his own pen down before reaching forward too. 

“Yeah, Stan, lighten the fuck up.” he ruffles Stan’s hair, making an even bigger mess of it; and now he’s completely forgotten about the work he needs to do, preoccupied with the overwhelming feeling taking over which he can’t identify at this time. His brain is left completely blank, but a laugh bubbles up in his chest. 

Richie and Eddie look startled as it passes his lips, loud and obnoxious; they stare so intensely that Stan almost feels the need to stop himself, before he takes into account how in awe they seem. Richie’s eyes are wide, smile even wider- it appears as if there’s stars in his vision, as if Stan was the star. Eddie doesn’t look so different, smile just a little bit more hesitant.

Stan assumes they aren’t the only ones with bright cheeks, as he holds Richie’s wrist with one hand- using his other arm to cover his face. Eddie pushes the arm away.

“No.” he says, voice high-pitched. “Don’t.” 

Stan draws his laugh to a close, but the smile remains pulling his cheeks upwards. His eyes stay creased, his face stays blushing just as his mind stays blank. He doesn’t know what to think. He just feels.

“D-don’t what?” he manages, internally cringing at the way his voice both breaks as well as stutters. 

“Don’t hide your face.” he states, resolute. Stan instinctively leans forward, tucks his face into Eddie’s neck and breathes. They both freeze. His fingers are still wrapped loosely around Richie’s small wrist, applying pressure. “Stan.” 

Humming, he waits.Eddie snakes his arms around his waist, remaining ignorant to how much Stan wishes he could just cry at the feeling. 

“I think I, uh-“ There’s some rustling behind him. “I think I love you.” Stan swears he nearly breaks Richie’s arm at this, alarmed at what he’s being told. He doesn’t move though, but the reasoning behind that is probably too complex that he simply won’t bother trying to figure it out. “Like, uh, in the not friend way. The _more_ than friend way. And if you’re not okay with that, I-“ Richie groans.

“_Jesus_, Eds, he gets it.” The boy whines. “Now let me hug him.” 

“Excuse me?” Eddie scoffs. “If you want in on this, you have to hug me, too.” Richie complies obviously, since there’s newly added pressure to Stan’s back; since another set of arms wrap around him, since there’s warm breath tickling the back of his neck.

“Done.” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Stan’s shoulder in preparation for settling his chin there. “If you didn’t get it, Stanley, as you’re probably lost in your thoughts right now; we both, like, love you or something.”

Eddie sighs, though he doesn’t seem to mind Richie’s less than eloquent wording. Stan doesn’t say anything, opting to instead press his face further away from the world- escaping into the space between Eddie’s neck and collarbone. 

He likes this, he thinks, he likes how this feels. Warm, fuzzy, right. He thinks he loves them, too.

**Author's Note:**

> A i wrote this in an hour


End file.
